


Cabbage

by translucentCrucible



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, Food, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/translucentCrucible/pseuds/translucentCrucible
Summary: “I was wondering if you’re okay,” you say. “You’re laying on the couch at ten in the morning, so I assumed that you aren’t feeling well?”Dirk sighs. “Can’t a guy chill out in peace?” He pulls the blanket further over his head.
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Cabbage

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Dirk is curled up against the back of the couch, covered in a fuzzy gray blanket. You have no reason to think he’s been laying here for a long time, since you’ve just rolled out of bed, but you also have no reason to think that he _hasn’t._ Automatically, you assume that something’s up.

You approach and look him over. Yep, he’s still breathing.

He notices your presence, though, and asks, “What is it, Karkat?” very softly, and muffled by the blanket.

“I was wondering if you’re okay,” you say. “You’re laying on the couch at ten in the morning, so I assumed that you aren’t feeling well?”

Dirk sighs. “Can’t a guy chill out in peace?” He pulls the blanket further over his head.

You grimace. “What have you eaten today?” you ask.

He’s silent for a moment. Then, he takes a deep breath and replies, “I don’t remember.”

You sigh and take in the small amount of him visible to you. The blanket covers nearly every inch of his body from the nose downward. To further obfuscate himself, he’s also turned away from you. Obviously, this doesn’t help you judge how he’s doing, since you’re mostly just looking at his hair at this point.

“I haven’t,” he amends slowly.

“Are you hungry, then?” you ask. Yes, it’s seeming more and more likely that he’s laid here since getting up without once attempting to eat or drink.

“No idea.”

You’ll at least try offering him food. “I’ll bring you something.”

You enter the kitchen and pour a bowl of barbecue potato chips and a glass of orange juice, and then return to the Dirk-covered couch. You’d like to pretend that the chips and the orange juice cancel each other out, nutrition-wise, but then you remember how much added sugar is in orange juice. Wearily, you present it to him.

Dirk rolls onto his back and sits up awkwardly like a cartoon vampire. “Thanks.” He accepts the chips and juice, then looks between them and you before finally caving in to his hunger. It’s alarming how quickly he devours the chips.

You push the coffee table a little closer to the couch, and then sit next to him on the narrow strip not occupied by his legs. “Better?”

He nods after a moment of consideration. “Sure.”

You sit quietly while he finishes his orange juice. He sets the bowl and glass on the coffee table when he’s done and wipes his barbecue chip fingers on his pants, which is disgusting, but you’d rather he did that instead of licking them. You do not want to touch his spit-covered hands, despite how much saliva you’ve exchanged since the start of your relationship.

“I’m not okay,” he announces.

“I noticed,” you reply. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Don’t know yet,” he replies. “Are _you_ okay?”

Oh you weren’t expecting that question! “I just woke up,” you tell him, “but I’ve had much worse days.” It’s true—if you had a scrapbook filled with your worst days, the size of that scrapbook could rival a small library.

Dirk smiles a little. “True.” It’s the kind of one-pixel smile that his fans go wild for. You can’t fault them for that.

You look at the empty bowl. “Are you still hungry? Because I’m ravenous.”

“Eleven points.”

“You’ll be a menace on Scrabble night,” you call from the kitchen, which you have now re-entered. You didn’t need to reply like you’re five rooms away, but the magic of paradox cloning granted you an impressive set of lungs, so why waste them?

“I look forward to crushing our opponents,” he replies. His tone is strangely ominous, considering the seemingly-innocuous nature of a board game about spelling words. You’ve never played, though, so maybe your inexperience has sheltered you from whatever reputation it might have. Well, Scrabble night is on Friday, so you’ll find out then, you suppose.

The trusty thermal hull is home to many things, including lactose-free milk, orange juice, and one and a half heads of cabbage. You open the hull door and pluck out the cabbage you used earlier this week from the designated cabbage zone. You unwrap it from its wax paper nest and then chop it into thin strips, about two inches long, give or take a little.

“Do I hear cabbage?” Dirk asks. The sound of it being chopped up seemingly got him off the couch, which is a nice development. He’ll eat most things, to be honest, but he likes cabbage a lot. You think it’s because you like it.

“You do.” You heat up oil in a pan and wait until it’s hot enough to drop pepper, salt, and the cabbage into it.

The sound of cabbage frying is pretty loud, but you stir it around every so often until it’s fully cooked. You scoop a little onto your cute wooden spoon to see if it tastes right. Then, you turn off the heat and dish some into clean bowls for the both of you. Whatever you don’t eat now can be put in the thermal hull for later. The dishes left in the living room can be washed in a bit, too; it’s not like you’re in a rush or anything.

You set the bowls on the kitchen table and collect Dirk’s used glass from the living room and pour more juice into it. Finally, you pour yourself a glass of milk and sit across from Dirk at the kitchen table.

“I.” Dirk looks down at the bowl and purses his lips. “Hm.” He gets up, walks over to the cupboards, and returns with forks. “You forgot them.”

You nod sagely and take one. “Duly noted.”

You eat together in relative silence, accompanied by occasional longing glances. This isn’t uncommon for you two; you both enjoy quiet moments. Well, Dirk needs more quiet time compared to you, but it’s something you’re more than happy to accomodate.

Dirk sets his fork down and sighs. “Did you want to do anything today?”

“Do you want to?” you ask.

“To be honest, no,” he replies.

“That’s fine.” You finish your last bite of cabbage. “Are you still hungry? I’m going to get cereal.”

He shrugs. “I’ll think about it.”

You nod and wiggle out of your chair so you can collect the various used dishes.

“Hey,” he interrupts.

You stop. “Hm?”

“Thanks,” Dirk says. “This helped a little. I still don’t feel... perfect, I guess. But I’m not hungry, so, thanks.”

You kiss the top of his head. “Happy to help.”

**Author's Note:**

> there are more interesting ways to make fried cabbage but this is what i do when i’m very very tired.! like today! there was hail all night so i didn’t sleep much :) so i sat down and wrote this 😁 anyhow! have a nice day !!


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